Page 1 of Full Service

Prologue

10 Years Ago

Macsen

If I was being honest with myself, I’d fucked up a bit - well, a lot. But being honest with myself was very different to being honest with other people. So I’d taken out my frustration with a science teacher who was clearly giving me lower grades because of where I came from and how I looked by graffiti-ing ‘Mr Owens is a Twat’ on the wall of the school, and gotten myself excluded.

It hadn’t long stopped raining and the mud under my feet was working its way up the sides of my shoes.

I tugged at my tie as I wandered down the country lanes, pulling it off and stuffing it in my pocket. No matter how little we had, our mum had always made sure we were impeccably dressed for school, even if she had to dye old school jumpers in the sink to make them look newer. And now I was going to have to go home and explain to them what had happened and what I’d done.

A tractor drove past me. I pressed my back up against the hedge but still didn’t manage to avoid getting myself covered in dust and gravel as the driver didn’t bother to slow. “Dickhead!” I shouted after him, but he didn’t stop.

It was an hour or so walk down country lanes to get home. I probably could have waited for the free bus but I couldn’timagine anything worse than having to sit with the other kids and endure their stares when they knew what I had done. The smug whispers and the side glances over at the freak of a kid.

Another car drove past, this time catching a puddle and splashing me with muddy water. I dreaded the thought of having to go home to my parents and explain everything looking like this.

The lanes opened up on one side to a big old brick building open on one side and a yard filled with tires and spare parts. There were a couple of men working out front and one, Alun, looked up at me and frowned.

“What’s going on, Macsen?” he called over to me. He was about 6 years older than me — he had been in my brother’s year at school, but in a completely different group of friends — but he must’ve known my name that way.

I kept walking and bowed my head rather than look up at him, but to my surprise he jogged away from his work and put one hand on my shoulder, forcing me to turn around.

I saw the genuine concern in his big blue eyes that were set into a round, pale face. His teeth were slightly crooked, and he was growing a pretty bad moustache made worse by the fact his hair was so blonde that the facial hair was hardly even visible.

“I asked if you were OK,” he said.

I shrugged him off. “Fine.”

“Well, you don’t look particularly fine to me.”

I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes and an overwhelming sense of shame. One tear betrayed me by leaking out and running a track down my cheek. “Got expelled,” I finally managed to mumble.

“Come on,” said Alun. He led me past the other men working and into the garage. It was greasy and dirty inside and cars were propped up without wheels or with stuff being fixed about them. I looked at an old Ford Fiesta enviously. My parents and brotherhad promised me they would try to scrape some money together for a car for my 17thbirthday if I stuck at school and did well. My 17thbirthday was 3 months away and I had no chance of that now.

Alun had brought me to a little kitchenette on one side of the workshop. It was greasy and dusty like the rest of the workshop but the sink and mugs on it had been cleaned to a shine. Alun sat me on a little chair and boiled the kettle. After a couple of minutes in which neither of us spoke, he pushed a cup of tea into my hands.

“Don’t drink tea,” I said.

“Well, you do now. Tea makes everything better. That’s what my mum says.” Alun leaned back on the countertop. I noticed his hands were dark with dust and grease, emphasising the scars and wrinkles in black.

“Well, my mum says that she’ll only love me if I get good marks in school. So let’s not pretend that mums are all right.” I saw Alun’s eyes widen and wondered if I’d revealed too much.

“Does she really say that?” he asked.

“Well, no. Not exactly. Just that I’m not as good asGruffat school. I won’t go to a big university or get a good job likeGruffhas.”

“University isn’t for everyone,” Alun smiled. “You know Alaw? A couple of years below me in school?”

“Yes,” I said. She was a very pretty and very clever girl who like my brother had gotten a place in university.

“Well, she was my girlfriend til she went off. And though she went to university and I took up an apprenticeship here, that didn’t make me less than her in any way. I’m proud of what I have here and I have a trade. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I was still sullen. Why did he have to rub his success in my face? He’d gotten an apprenticeship and his family was happy with that. There were fuck all other options for me.

“So. Have you considered it?”

“Considered what?”

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